Deliquium

Geraldine Monk

I am not a poet who carries a notebook. To go out equipped with writing materials appears to act as a deterrent to the written word. I simply rely on the vagaries of chance to supply me with torn off stubs from newspapers, unwaxed cartons, beer mats, paper bags or any other matter on which I can preserve curious collocations of words or nascent thoughts. This tendency to scribble on scraps is also in evidence at my writing desk where scrawny fragments of paper are scattered like confetti. A neat pile of handsome notebooks sit patient but neglected. So it was no surprise when a miniscule shard of paper fluttered into my lap with the single and distinctive word ‘Deliquium’ on it. I vaguely remembered writing it down on a recent visit to Crete as I thought it a highly attractive sounding word but I had no idea what it meant. I decided it was time to investigate and was even more delighted by each of its definitions. At the time of its rediscovery I had been choosing a programme of poems to read at the University of Kent and the whole concept of this four part poem presented itself to me fully formed. Using each definition of the word to start each section it became an intervolving of memories from Crete with the anticipated visit to Canterbury. With a minimum amount of editing the poem flowed out virtually intact. It was a poem waiting to happen.